A name isn't just a name...

Though I descend from the Tudor and Plantagenet houses (really), my name is very common, so it's understandable when people on Goodreads and other book sites accidentally tag me as an author of a book that isn't mine. It's frustrating because I have to constantly check my book lists and fix those mistakes or message the admin to fix them, but I understand the mix ups. However, the news I got today about my name is the polar opposite of frustrating. My niece is having her first child and he will have my middle name as his middle name. Yippee!

This is especially touching to me for two reasons. One is that my sibs were named after my parents and I wasn't named after anyone in the family. And two is because no one has ever named a baby after me. And we have a large extended family. As the family genealogy detective, I see babies on our tree that were named after parents, grands, aunties and uncles in every generation. I will finally be part of this legacy and I'm looking forward to meeting my little namesake when he arrives.

Nag, nag, nag...

He-who-shall-not-be-named (I've been married to him for 25 years) promised to change the smoke alarm batteries by New Year's Day and I promised not to nag him about it. Last night we were snug in our bed when a loud beep roused us, followed a few seconds by another, then another. He-who-shall-not-be-named had forgotten about the batteries. 30 minutes later, we were still trying to coax a confused and trembling dog out from under our bed and into her own. When midnight rolled around, he-who-shall-not-be-named and trembling dog were fast asleep, and I was still wide awake. Next year, I'm nagging.